Scarlet Emerald
by Pickled Sakura
Summary: It is said that the best way to destroy your enemies is to make them your friends. Can the ancient feud between Gryffindor and Slytherin be ended? Can they unite against the greater enemy? Will what was once hatred cross the fine line to love?
1. Return to Hogwarts

Disclaimer: We disclaim.

A/N: This is a reposted, rewritten, practically not the same version of _Crossing the Fine Line_. Hope you like it.

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RETURN TO HOGWARTS

That one glance had done it. As Draco Malfoy had walked past, the point of Professor McGonagall's wand at his back, Harry had lost his hate for his former enemy. The seventeen-year-old had looked haunted, unshaven, and, in a way, broken. It hadn't been a particularly long moment, but it hit Harry with force. Perhaps the once prideful Slytherin reminded him of Sirius for those few seconds, but whatever it was, sympathy was there.

For reasons he couldn't explain to himself, Harry waited until Professor McGonagall came out of the room she had led the young Malfoy into. It was about an hour later when she came out, looking disturbed. When she saw Harry standing there, her face registered surprise, but it was then filled with exhaustion. "Come with me, Potter."

She led him to the meeting room that was currently empty except for a long table and chairs. The Headmistress sat down, and Harry followed suit, sitting across from her.

"Yes?" he asked, finally speaking out of curiosity.

"You know what happened last June better than I do. What do you think we should do with Mr. Malfoy?"

Harry started at this, taken aback by her forwardness. "I- um- well, what does he want?"

"Protection," she answered simply and shortly, but her usual strict demeanor seemed to be softened by fatigue.

Harry thought about this for a moment, the painful memories of June coming back to him. He had been forced to change his views on Draco since then, but it still hurt to think about what had happened. "Won't his father come after him?"

Professor McGonagall shook her head, looking even grimmer. "No. The boy's family is dead."

Although he was not the least bit sad to hear about Lucius Malfoy's death, Harry couldn't help but feel a small amount of empathy for Draco Malfoy. Harry's parents had died before he really knew them, but Draco had known his all his life.

"Well," Harry said after deliberation, "he'll need to tell us _everything_ he knows and help us when we ask. I think we can trust him for that."

The Headmistress nodded, seeming to approve. Harry was surprised that his Professor trusted his opinion that much.

"He already told me he wants nothing to do with the Order unless absolutely necessary. I suppose after we get the information we can send him to Tonks'. She is his cousin."

Harry nodded and stood, turning to exit the room. "Potter." He looked around to see Professor McGonagall surveying at him through her square spectacles, a serious expression on her face.

"Yes?" he asked self-consciously.

"Are you sure about this?"

Harry paused for a moment before nodding shortly. Professor McGonagall didn't say another word, and so the seventeen-year-old turned back and walked out, closing the door behind him. As soon as his hand left the doorknob, the weight of this decision came crashing upon him and only one thing rang through his mind. "What have I done?"

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It was odd being at Hogwarts this year. The absence of their former Headmaster was overpowering, except to the first years. The castle seemed to emit a different aura, one of urgency. But as they sat down at their respective house tables, the students seemed to forget themselves in the excitement. They were able to feel welcome.

Ron Weasley looked around the Great Hall, glad to be back again. While he was observing, waiting for the first years to arrive, his eyes caught a flash of white blond. Upon closer inspection, he found none other than Draco Malfoy sitting soberly at the Slytherin table, his faithful pug Pansy Parkinson fawning at his side. "What the hell is _he_ doing here?!"

"Who?" asked Hermione, who had been focused on a conversation with Nearly Headless Nick, and peered in the direction Ron was glaring. "Malfoy!" she hissed.

Ginny had also looked up at her brother's vehemence and frowned when she saw the young Malfoy there. She glanced at Harry and was surprised to see a rather closed expression on his face.

"I wonder how he tricked Professor McGonagall into allowing him to come back," Hermione scoffed.

Ron replied with, "By being a bloody snake, that's what! I swear-"

Ginny was only half-listening to this, her focus on Harry. "Harry, what's the matter?"

Her concern also caught the attention of Ron and Hermione, both turning to gaze anxiously at their best friend. Harry looked at Ginny for a moment, surprised at the shift in attention, and then looked away. "Nothing." he said, a little too casually.

"No," Ron said, slightly suspicious, "what is it?"

"I said it was nothing." As Ron and Hermione exchanged knowing glances, knowing after seven years exactly when Harry was lying, Harry said irritably, "What makes you so convinced there's something wrong?"

Both Hermione and Ron were surprised at Harry's sudden burst of temper. Ron cautiously quipped, "Maybe the fact that you're suddenly so defensive?"

Hermione took a softer approach, asking gently, "Is it because Malfoy is back at Hogwarts?"

"Do you really think Draco Malfoy would have been able to trick Professor McGonagall? She's too smart for that," Harry answered, trying to brush the whole thing off.

Ginny's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Harry, what are you hiding?"

"Look, it's nothing okay?" Harry finally snapped, annoyed that they wouldn't just leave it alone. "Just realize Malfoy wouldn't be here unless it was okay."

Ginny's eyes widened and filled with hurt that he had only snapped when she had asked a question. "Alright. I'm sorry I asked," she said, trying and failing to keep the hurt out of her voice.

"Ginny…" Harry said, regretting that he had hurt her feelings. Unable to find the words to say what he wanted to, Harry simply turned to watch the first years come in.

Gazing at the boy that she had loved for so long, familiar with his communication issues, Ginny simply shook her head, letting it go. "It's fine, Harry. I trust you."

Harry turned to smile at her, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thanks. That means a lot."

Hermione, who had been watching the exchange with a quizzical look on her face, turned to Ron. He was looking sullen, probably at the fact that it didn't look like they would be hearing why Malfoy was here. Hermione grabbed his hand and smiled when he turned to look at her. With all of the strain on Harry and Ginny's relationship, she figured this was something they should stay out of for the moment.

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"Parkinson, we're over."

This was said rather randomly into the silence of the Slytherin Common Room after the feast. Pansy looked up from her book in shock. Others were now watching also, waiting to see what would happen. "What?" she squeaked out.

"Was I not clear enough?" Draco said in an amused sort of way. "Here, I'll say it again: we're over."

Pansy could feel tears spring to her eyes. Normally she was very good at hiding her true emotions and reacting the way she chose, but not right now. This had come as too much of a surprise. "But... Draco..."

"But what?" Draco asked in disinterest. He really could care less what her protest was. His mind was made up.

"But you can't!" As she always did in this type of emotionally revealing and embarrassing situation, she hid behind her mask of snobbery. "My father-

"I can do whatever I please, Parkinson." Draco replied, looking down his nose at her.

Pansy just sat there in shock, her mouth hanging most unbecomingly open.

Draco glanced at her and said in irritation. "Close your mouth. You look like an idiot." Because she had made him grouchy, he decided to make another jab. In a thoughtful tone, he mused, "Although maybe that's just letting your true self shine..."

Pansy came back to life, stuttering, "You- You can't do this!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Must I always repeat myself with you? I can do whatever I want, Parkinson."

Now that she had managed to shove aside her shock, Pansy was angry. "Fine!" she said indignantly. To try to snub him back she said, "It's not like I can't get someone else."

But that was a mistake. Draco had a _lot_ of experience with making witty, slicing remarks, and Pansy could never hope to best him. She could only successfully imitate him from time to time. Draco's eyes flashed and, without missing a beat, said, "I wouldn't be so sure of that. Unless they're after your father's money... you certainly have nothing else to recommend you."

Pansy felt extremely hurt. She knew she was rather plain, but she had always tried to behave in a way that she thought would please Draco. Feeling betrayed she shot out angrily, "Like you would know! I'm not even going to talk to you, Draco Malfoy. You can just go fall off the Astronomy Tower."

Although Draco hid a wince at the reference, he had come to his decision and thus could not be angered. "You not talking to me was _exactly_ what I wanted."

Pansy gasped. Speechless and afraid she may embarrass herself by bursting into tears, she covered it by stomping off.

"Finally..." Draco muttered to himself as he sank into the couch, and all of the Slytherins that had been watching now turned back to what they had originally been doing.

Theodore Nott had just entered the common room in time to see Pansy storm off. "Is Parkinson in another snit?" he asked conversationally as he strolled over to Draco.

Theodore was a loner but clever. He didn't follow Draco, and that combined with his intelligence was one of the reasons Draco respected him as someone he actually considered an equal. They didn't talk often, but at least they could have conversations that had a point. With Crabbe and Goyle, Draco often was left as the only one talking.

Draco responded with a derisive snort. "Something like that, I'm sure. I finally ditched her."

One of Theodore's eyebrows rose delicately before he responded in cultured tones, "On one level I applaud you, but are you sure that was wise?"

Draco gave him an odd look and asked, "Why exactly would it be otherwise?"

Theodore hesitated before saying, "Well, there aren't that many pureblood females around. I'm sure your father expected your family line to continue...'untainted'."

Draco rolled his eyes at this, but there wasn't any real emotion behind it. It didn't need to be said that 'untainted blood' was indeed what his father had wanted. However, now it was a decision that Draco could make for himself without the pressure of others. "That doesn't mean I'm stuck with Hogwarts girls."

"Of course." Theodore replied. "I was simply curious to what other options you were considering now that Parkinson was no longer on your list."

Draco sat in silence, making no reply because he didn't really have a plan anymore but refusing to admit so.

Theodore sighed, knowing what this was actually about. "Malfoy, it's up to you. But it's not just Hogwarts girls you aren't fixed with anymore."

Draco's grey eyes looked up and zeroed intently on Theodore's at this declaration, and Theodore could tell Draco had calculated what he had meant by that. "I know."

And with that, Theodore left Draco to his cluttered confusion.

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The Gryffindor Common Room, unlike the current Slytherin one, was rather peaceful at the moment. Harry, Ron, and Hermione (along with Ginny) were now all collected around the fireplace. Hermione and Ron sat next to each other on the couch, Harry was in an armchair, and Ginny lay on her stomach on a rug, focused on the flickering orange flames.

It seemed to be an unwritten rule that they weren't to talk about anything serious, and so here they were, Harry teasing Ron about how Lavender had flaunted her new boyfriend at him earlier that evening.

"Oh, come on, Ron, as if it wasn't obvious." Hermione added, joining Harry, who grinned at the encouragement.

"I hope you gave her that necklace back…" Harry teased.

"What necklace is this?" Hermione asked with interest, while Ron gave Harry a deadly glare.

Ginny, however, didn't join in the ribbing, content to watch the way that, for the moment, Harry seemed unguarded and - normal. The summer had made him a lot more serious and sober, as it had for almost all of them. It was nice to see his green eyes looking happy.

Of course it would have been even nicer if she hadn't needed to watch all of this out of the corner of her eye. Perhaps she didn't need to, she doubted he would notice right now, but the feeling was there. It pained her that she seemed to be right back where she had started with him, except now he shared her hurt. That fact didn't comfort her.

"Ginny, help me out here," Ron said, interrupting her thoughts.

She turned around, a smile on her face. "And why should I do that?" she teased.

"Why?!" Ron blustered. "I'm your brother; that's why."

"So?"

Ron stuck his tongue out at her and then went back to playfully arguing. She slowly sat up, turning to face them. All of it seemed too ordinary, as though Voldemort was dead and defeated. Ginny knew this wasn't true; she knew that it was lurking in the back of all of their minds, that tomorrow it would probably be different. But right now, feeling warmth and happiness, she allowed herself the hope that it wouldn't. It was a dangerous thing to do.

She got up off the ground and saying a goodnight to the three, ambled in the direction of the dormitories. And when she glanced back, catching the look Harry was giving her as she climbed the stairs; she decided that just maybe that hope was worth it.

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	2. Predispositions

Disclaimer: No, we don't own any of this. Get over it.

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PREDISPOSITIONS

Pansy plunked herself, in a most unladylike fashion, into a seat, throwing her bag onto the table. It was a moment before she actually looked around the library, still moody. It was late that Wednesday evening, and nearly the entire library was empty, all of the students gone or leaving. At the table next to her she spotted Potter, who actually didn't look too happy either. Surprisingly, he was alone. It was a rather odd sight…usually there was at least one of the other Gryffindor tag-alongs there. He appeared to be reading intently also unusual for him.

Harry was reading so intently, in fact, that it took him awhile to notice Pansy. At first he ignored her, but after a few minutes it began to irritate him. In an attempt to drive her off, he began to slam his books around, but it didn't faze her. Finally he growled as looked up at her and snapped, "Parkinson, is there something I can help you with?"

"I highly doubt it, Potter," she sneered. "You seem as if you have enough to do yourself. I imagine Granger is up with Weasley somewhere…"

Harry raised an eyebrow, surprised at her words. "That actually sounded polite, Parkinson. I didn't think that was possible. And in case you hadn't remembered, Ron and Hermione are Head Boy and Girl. They have responsibilities that take up much of their time. Besides, I'm perfectly capable of doing things by myself."

Pansy rolled her eyes as he finally finished his mini-speech. As a Slytherin and Draco's former girlfriend, she was used to witty, succinct replies. "Oh yes, and I'm sure without Granger you would have passed all of your classes."

"I'm sure I would've passed," he replied stiffly, and then thinking of History of Magic, amended himself, "I'll admit I may not have done as well, but believe it or not, there are some classes where I'm better than Hermione. I just don't care as much as she does- but _why_ am I telling you this? I have too much to do to sit around defending myself to you!" And with that he turned back to his books in a dismissive fashion.

"And what could that possibly be?" Pansy asked in amusement. "Besides Potions I'm fairly sure I have the same classes as you, and we've hardly had any homework."

Harry stiffened at that; she was getting awfully suspicious, snapping irritably, "Never you mind that, Parkinson."

"You know, I'd be careful, Potter," Pansy warned thoughtfully. "Someone might think you're up to something. That certainly isn't some romance collection you have…all of those are from the Restricted Section, aren't they?"

"I'm doing extra research for Defense Against the Dark Arts," he replied as nonchalantly as possible. "That's my best subject."

The sudden indifference instead of irritation didn't get past Pansy. "Potter, although that's a good excuse, you _never_ do extra research." Gazing at the titles of the books she could see from her table, she noted, "And I don't believe The Four Hogwarts Founders goes under Defense Against the Dark Arts… that's History of Magic."

Heaving a great sigh of annoyance, Harry said through clenched teeth, "Parkinson, you don't know me, so don't start making observations about my behavior. Why the sudden interest in me anyway?"

"Not _you_, Potter," Pansy scowled in distaste. "What you're doing." Lifting her eyes from the books, curious to see his reaction, she spoke again, "I don't see how the Founders fit in with the Dark Lord."

Harry's eyes narrowed, and as he responded he wasn't very successful in controlling his flaring temper. "What makes you think this is related to the Dark Lord, Parkinson? Do you know something I don't? If you're here to spy on me, you're not being very subtle about it."

Pansy actually laughed at this, and when she saw Harry's surprised expression, laughed even more. "That's right, Potter; I'm here to spy on you. Because, you know, all Slytherins are future Death Eaters."

He stared at her for a moment, wondering about her mental stability, before saying, "I just can't think of any other reason a Slytherin would be interested in me… _or_ what I'm doing."

Pansy shrugged, and silence fell between them once more. She looked at her books for mere seconds before deciding that Potter was more interesting today. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a particularly curious-looking tome. Taking out her wand, she summoned it to her. "What's this, Potter? Soul magic? That's rather dark reading…nothing for you Gryffindors, I'm sure."

As Harry snapped out his wand and summoned the book back, he said coldly, "And I'm sure you know all about Gryffindors, just like I know all about Slytherins."

"Well, you are all rather easy to read. You wear your hearts on your sleeves."

Hearing Snape's comment repeated by another member of the Slytherin House was the last straw. "Oh, really?" Harry said savagely as he snagged the book out of the air and slammed it on top of his pile. "It must be a house trait to think that way, but I don't think people of any house are easy to read."

Despite her confusion regarding Harry's comment about house traits, she continued, "Well, they are. Like right now, you're irritated that I'm sitting here and wondering why I'm even talking to you, and you can't get back to work because you want to know why."

Harry wasn't surprised at her explanation; after all, it wasn't exactly hard to tell those things since they were rather vague. "Although I would like to know why, that isn't why I can't get back to work. I can't get back to work because you're bothering me. And if you aren't going to tell me why, then I don't care. It can't be that important, and I really do have important things to do."

Pansy was feeling amused and couldn't help but continue, "Then why are you still listening and replying to whatever I say?"

"Because if I can't work, then I have nothing better to do. Every time I try to ignore you-"

But before Harry could really get going on his rampage, Pansy broke in with, "So what's this momentous task you absolutely have to do anyway?"

Harry looked over at her, obviously wishing very much to be rid of her. "Parkinson, you aren't going to annoy me into telling you. It's none of your business."

She pouted for a moment before remembering who it was she was talking to and switching tactics. "What if I wanted to help you?"

Harry's head shot up from the book he had been half-heartedly skimming. "Why would you want to help me?" he asked, the tone of his voice more shocked than suspicious.

"Because I can. I know things you don't." She shrugged a little.

Harry raised his eyebrows at the last part, both suspicious and disbelieving. "Like what?"

Pansy became serious, and there was a flash of sadness in her eyes before she replaced it as she spoke with a dignified tone, "I know a lot of things. It's just no one thinks I'm smart enough to listen if it's serious or about the war."

"Well, do you ever give people a reason to suspect you might actually be smart?" Harry winced when he realized what that sounded like.

Pansy abruptly stood up at her table, gathering her things and glaring at him. "Like anyone would care if I was. Goodbye, Potter."

He sighed, watching her start to leave, before speaking out, "Parkinson, wait. That actually wasn't meant to be an insult. If you were only acting stupid, then it could be taken as a compliment!" When she paused, he couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "_Girls."_

Finally she turned around and stalked over to his table, her eyes narrowed. "_Don't_ try to act like you care, Potter. It's obvious you don't care about anyone other than the people who will join your precious Order, whether they believe in Voldemort or not."

"You know about the Order?" Harry asked in surprise and then realized something else. "You call him Voldemort? Not the Dark Lord?"

"Only in good company," she replied. "And yes, I know about your little Order."

Harry was perplexed at this interesting new development. "Why? And how? What else do you know?"

Pansy hesitated at Harry's genuine attempt at a real conversation before slowly sitting down across from him. She paused a moment before speaking, not sure if she really wanted to tell him. At last she did, figuring it couldn't hurt. "My parents are always ranting about the Order at home, though it's not very complimentary."

Harry wondered exactly how much they knew about the Order. Because of Snape, it probably was a lot. Then something else she had said previously hit him. "Wait, so does that mean you consider me good company?" he said in surprise. Then he flushed and said hastily, "I mean, for that anyway." There was a brief pause before he said softly, "We really don't know all that much about each other, do we?"

Pansy nodded shortly, opting to only respond to the first question. "I don't think you're going to report to Voldemort if I call him by his name. Some would."

Harry gave a short laugh filled with irony. "Oh yes, Voldemort and I have civil conversations all the time." After another pause, Harry asked, "Pansy, why are you here, after all this time?"

Noting Harry's use of her first name, Pansy responded softly, already knowing the answer, "Because if I had come earlier, would you have listened? After last year I figured I might have a better chance."

Harry nodded in confirmation. He hesitated a moment before querying, "But that's not the only reason, is it?"

"Well, no," Pansy confessed. "But everyone has their own reasons for fighting."

Harry nodded, and they were silent for a moment while Harry thought it over. He was still trying to get over the shock of this new Pansy Parkinson. It was definitely a side of her he had never seen before. Of course he had also never REALLY talked to her before… Finally, he sighed. "You understand you'll have to earn my trust? I have to be careful to avoid making any more fatal mistakes," he finished bitterly.

"Potter, how am I going to earn your trust?" she doubtfully asked.

"Help me," he replied simply. "If your information proves to be correct, I'll know you're not leading me into a trap. Of course, you could do all that to gain my trust and then betray me at the last moment, but we'll work on it. Okay?"

Pansy hesitated and then nodded in agreement. "Alright."

Taking a deep breath to prepare himself to make his second great leap of trust of the year, Harry quickly performed _Muffliato_ on the few people even remotely close to them. Pansy watched, unsure as to what he was doing, but when he finally spoke again, he seemed to be semi-confident they wouldn't be overheard. "Do you know anything about Horcruxes?"

"No," Pansy replied, shaking her head. She didn't outwardly display the surprise she felt that Potter was obviously involving her so soon.

"A Horcrux is made when a person splits their soul by committing murder and places it inside an item. This is important because… Voldemort has, or _had_, six of them. He can't be killed unless those Horcruxes are destroyed." He paused once more before continuing, "Do you know anything about the real details behind the Chamber of Secrets in our second year?"

"Just that Voldemort possessed Ginny Weasley," Pansy shrugged.

"But do you know _how_?"

Pansy shook her head and then stopped when she suddenly remembered something. Biting her lip, she said slowly, "No… I thought I heard Draco talking about his father and a diary over the summer after, but…"

"The diary was one of Voldemort's Horcruxes. If he had succeeded in killing Ginny, he would have come back to power. That one has been destroyed. And then Dumbledore-" Harry got a lump in his throat as he always did every time the now deceased Headmaster's name came up. He cleared his throat and then continued, "Dumbledore destroyed another. That leaves four."

"But wouldn't a piece of his soul still have to be inside him?" Pansy asked thoughtfully.

Harry was surprised at her cleverness but didn't dare say so out loud again, knowing how sensitive she was on the subject. He had forgotten to mention that part… "Yes. So even if we kill him as he is right now, he could just come back because of his Horcruxes."

Pansy gestured at the many books spread across his table. "So that's what all this is for. You have to find what he's hidden them in. I'm assuming the Founders' books are because you suspect he's using relics from them."

Harry nodded, once again impressed by her astuteness. Pansy continued, "But if he's using things from the Founders, isn't the only thing Gryffindor has is that sword?"

"And the Sorting Hat. So we know it's probably not something of Gryffindor's. We know he did find something of Slytherin's and Hufflepuff's. It's possible he found something of Ravenclaw's, and Dumbledore- Dumbledore suspected that Nagini, his snake, may be one."

Pansy didn't know what to say but wanted to show she was listening, so she just nodded and remarked, "That would account for all of them."

There was a brief silence before Harry came to a decision. "The night Dumbledore- was killed…" Harry swallowed before emphasizing, "You have to understand you are one of the very few whom I'm telling this… Dumbledore and I went to a cave and retrieved a locket of Slytherin's. But someone else had been there before us and taken the real one…"

"Who?" Pansy asked. She was confused but still rather encouraged that he was trusting her so much. If it had been almost any other person, she was sure they wouldn't have dared.

Harry shook his head. "The only clue we have to their identity is the initials R.A.B."

"Do we know if they're a pureblood?"

For a moment Harry's eyes narrowed at her, but he answered anyway, "Well, all I can figure is they must be a Death Eater. Who else would've known so much about the Horcruxes? Not all Death Eaters are purebloods…"

But Pansy was already caught up in thought, not paying that much attention to him. She was biting her lip and was resting her chin on the back of her hand, her elbow propped up on the table. She was obviously thinking aloud to herself when she spoke, "But most of them are…"

Harry shrugged, not really wanting to think about how he knew so much about Death Eaters.

"R.A.B…" she trailed off again. It didn't occur to her she was behaving rather relaxed around this Gryffindor who had long supposedly been her enemy.

"Hermione did some research before we left last year. But the only people she found were Rosalind Antigone Bungs and Rupert 'Axebanger' Brookstanton, and they didn't have any obvious connection to Voldemort," Harry told her, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"But what if it was just because she was looking at books where they only mention people who have done something worth writing about, and this person didn't do anything of note? What would be better is something along the lines of a wizarding line… if this person was a pureblood, that would help."

Harry thought this was somewhat of a stretch but figured it couldn't hurt. "Yeah… I just don't know much about pureblood families, not even mine…"

"It's simple really," Pansy said. "All of the prominent wizarding families have their lines published… I'll try and find out who could have those initials."

"Yeah, but they also remove those who 'taint' the line." Harry frowned and then looked away. It was hard to think about all of this… Sirius, Dumbledore… he was trying as hard as he could to focus on this research, but there were constant reminders of them everywhere he went. "The fact that the note was still there with the fake… Voldemort might not know the locket is missing," he said finally.

Pansy jumped at his sudden input, caught in her own thoughts, and then thought it over before nodding also. "That would give you a humongous advantage. If you can destroy the rest of them and make sure he doesn't find out… you'll be on even ground when you face him next."

"Exactly. That's why I'm here doing research… which I believe you pointed out isn't usually my forte," Harry said, ending with a small smile.

"Well, you have to admit it isn't," Pansy said, though she sounded slightly sheepish.

Harry grinned at this, surprised how easy it was to talk to her. "I know. It's alright."

Pansy gave him an odd look as he grinned at her and glanced at the clock. By her expression Harry could tell she was surprised at the time, and she started to gather her things. "Well, they aren't going to have books on the pureblood lines in here… after all, I doubt Dumbledore would have wanted to offend anyone. I'll Owl home about it. I'm sure I can make up some story to cover."

"Thank you," Harry said gratefully. "Owl me when… if… you find something."

"Owl you?"

Hearing the questioning tone in her voice, Harry looked up to see her eyebrow cocked inquiringly. He flushed as he tried to explain, "I just thought that would be easiest? Unless you don't mind our… interaction… becoming public knowledge?"

Pansy let out a little laugh at his embarrassment. It was rare that she actually got to talk to guys that were self-conscious. It wasn't something she would have expected from Harry Potter. "Potter, I honestly don't care either way. People don't bother with us Slytherins anyway."

"But what if Malfoy finds out?" Harry asked, puzzled. He was surprised, however, when her expression hardened and her jaw set. "What about him? Besides, Potter, it's not like we're going out or anything."

"I just don't want you to get in trouble," he said, surprised by her sudden change of moods. It looked like Malfoy had broken up with her. Ever since they had returned to Hogwarts, Harry had been expecting such a thing.

"Malfoy does not care what I do; he has made that very clear," she snapped at him.

"Okay, okay," Harry said in an attempt to calm her down. "So how do you want to handle things?"

She shrugged, starting to calm down. She liked being asked her opinion for once. "It's up to you, Potter. You're the one with the reputation to uphold."

"My reputation has never been a sure thing. It sways with the public opinion, as you know. I just thought maybe your parents wouldn't be happy if they heard about it," Harry explained.

Pansy frowned for a moment, not only at the severe truth of that statement but also because she was unused to someone being so concerned about her, before lightening up when she came up with a solution. "Well, yes, that could be a problem if I wasn't going to tell them that I'm simply 'winning over the enemy'."

Harry couldn't help but look rather wary at this. After all, it was something that she could easily be doing already. She watched him, her brown eyes looking amused before she became serious again. "So why are you doing this anyway, Potter?"

Although Harry could have played dumb about what Pansy meant by 'this', he knew what it was she was asking and wondered what she thought. "Why do you think I'm doing it?" he asked, gazing at Pansy solemnly.

"I honestly don't know," she said, sounding sincere. "If it was me, I'd be doing it for revenge. However, I'm not sure about that 'Chosen One' thing either."

Harry paused, absorbing her words, and then responded casually, "After all that Voldemort has done to me? It's revenge." It wasn't the entire truth, stepping around her statement about the 'Chosen One', but it wasn't a lie either.

Pansy narrowed her eyes suspiciously but let it go. "I see. Well, that still doesn't answer the question of what we're going to do."

"Unless you have an idea of how long your side is going to take, then you'll just have to let me know when you have something."

"Well, it shouldn't take that long. So I suppose I'll Owl you then?" she asked.

Harry forced himself to not point out that he had previously suggested just that. He wearily agreed and then said, "Good night, Parkinson."

"Good night, Potter."

* * *


	3. Underestimated

Disclaimer: This disclaimer will now carry out through the rest of the story, because disclaimers are tedious and tiresome. We do not own any creation of JK Rowling. So there.

Chapter Three: Underestimated

After what felt like an eternity of brooding but was really only a few days, Draco Malfoy was sick of thinking. It seemed clear to him that he was getting nowhere and would just have to deal with whether or not he wanted to hate non-purebloods when the situation arose. After coming to this decision, he decided to take a walk around the halls. In a moment of silence, he checked that no one else was there before speaking a name clearly. "Dobby."

To Draco's surprise the house-elf appeared. As soon as Dobby saw Draco, he squeaked in surprise and a bit of terror, "Young Master Malfoy?!"

Draco was still slightly taken aback that it had actually worked. Unsure what to do now that Dobby was there but not wanting to show it, he demanded, "Dobby… bring me some hot chocolate."

Dobby still cowered but was nonetheless defiant. "I doesn't have to do that, sir. You is not my master now."

"But you work for Hogwarts, and I'm a Hogwarts student. Isn't that why you appeared?" Draco pointed out.

The house-elf sighed, looking guilty, and Draco took this as Dobby's way of accepting defeat. "Sir, you's doesn't like hot chocolate. What does you really want?"

There was a moment of stubborn hesitation before the Slytherin gave in. "I- just wanted to see you," he muttered.

"To see ME, sir? But why?" Dobby asked, looking shocked at this.

But before Draco could reply to this, there was a familiar shriek of indignation that stopped him. "MALFOY! What are you doing to that poor house-elf? Leave him alone!"

He turned around to see none other than Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, both glaring at him intensely. "I'm not doing anything to him, Granger," he said through his teeth, "which you would realize if you didn't just jump to conclusions."

"Right, because we all know you're just the most _innocent_ person we know," Weasley replied sarcastically, reminding Draco why he hated the red-head so much.

He glared in return but looked down when Dobby murmured a feeble, "Sir?"

"Just- never mind," he told the House-elf, frustrated on many levels. He turned back to Weasley, who seemed to be waiting for a reply. "You don't know anything, Weasley, except for jealousy."

In an effort to focus on the original problem, Hermione burst out with, "Just because you're a pureblood snob, that doesn't give you the right to mistreat a house-elf like that!"

However, her boyfriend and Draco ignored her vitriol, their eyes focused on each other as Weasley replied, "Better than being a bloody Death Eater."

At the last two words, Draco stiffened. "Do you really think I would be here if-" He stopped mid-sentence, seeming to realize what he was saying. Instead he shook his head, looking angry. "You're both blind."

"It doesn't take sight to know you belong in Azkaban, Malfoy," Weasley retorted, his fists lying white and clenched at his sides.

Rather than continuing the exchange, Draco quickly turned around and walked off. He wasn't sure how much longer he would have been able to maintain his façade of indifference, and he wasn't about to let them see the guilt or pain in his eyes. His pride wouldn't allow him that. Especially since the only reason he was here in the first place was because of Potter - a fact that every part of him despised.

* * *

Lately it seemed as though all of Harry's time was spent in classrooms or the library. It was especially wearing as even though he had put a sizeable dent in the number of books relating to what he was looking for, he felt as though he had found nothing. Harry muttered under his breath, "Well, that didn't help any," tossing another book aside. He reached his hands up to his temples in an attempt to ward off the headache he could feel coming.

Harry wondered how much longer his two best friends would be. Ron and Hermione had been offered Head Boy and Girl when they had agreed to come back to school. All three of them had only agreed to come back when Professor McGonagall had assured them she wouldn't hinder them on their Horcrux search. And really, what better place to begin their search than the huge Hogwarts library? It contained many books with the information that had helped Voldemort become what he was, so there was a very good possibility that they could find something to help destroy what he was too.

Their new duties kept them busy, but Harry wasn't annoyed or irritated at all. Harry had known how much Hermione had wanted this position, and when they tried to argue with him, he had made the excuse that it would be too suspicious if they didn't take the positions. He knew they wanted to help him and would come as soon as they could, but this was his responsibility anyway. And Harry didn't want them to put their budding romance on hold just for him... just because he had put his own on hold. It was his duty, not theirs.

After almost another hour, Hermione rushed into the library, her bushy hair frizzing wildly behind her. "Harry! I'm so sorry; that took longer than we expected! Did you make any progress?"

Ron was strolling behind her and came up to the table at a slower pace. "Don't mind her… she's been wound up all evening."

Harry looked up from the books he had been focused on to see his two best friends. "No real progress," he said in a tired tone of voice. "What is she wound up about?"

"Malfoy… he was pestering a house-elf," Ron said. He went to share the look he always shared with Harry at times like these, a look of loving exasperation… but to his surprise Harry seemed extremely distracted.

Hermione was about to retort angrily when Harry interrupted with, "Hermione! Can't you focus a little here? You can worry about the house-elves later."

Hermione met eyes with Ron, silently communicating to each other that Harry seemed to be unusually irritated… even for researching. "I am focused, Harry," she said gently.

"What's the matter?" Ron asked with concern.

Harry moodily flipped the pages for a moment. "Nothing. I'm just tired."

The two of them pulled out chairs and sat down, both taking out what they needed. "So what are we studying tonight?" Ron asked, loyally resigning himself to doing whatever was necessary to help his best friend.

"Still the Founders and how we can destroy Horcruxes," Harry said half-heartedly. He knew the research was critical, but he'd been at it for so many hours; he wasn't sure his brain had the energy to make the necessary connections even if he were to find something.

"Any luck with R.A.B.?" Hermione asked.

Harry stiffened a little before catching himself and forcing himself to remain casual. He wasn't ready to tell them about Pansy, knowing that they would probably overreact with suspicion and dismay that he had trusted a Slytherin. "Not yet… I still need to know how to destroy a Horcrux when we find one… preferably so I don't lose any limbs like Dumbledore. The diary was pure luck."

"But, Harry, if _Dumbledore_ didn't know how to do it without losing limbs…" Ron looked rather ill at the thought of something like that happening to his best friend before an odd thought occurred to him. "Wait, was it his wand hand that was cursed?"

"I destroyed Tom Riddle's diary without losing limbs," Harry pointed out in exasperation before Ron's question registered. "Yeah… yeah, it was. Why?"

"I was going to say, if it was his wand hand that was cursed… maybe all we would need is someone who can do wandless magic," Ron explained, looking excited.

Harry simply stared. "But, Ron, no wizards can do wandless magic."

"But, Harry, what about house-elves?" Hermione interrupted.

Ron hadn't been expecting this and rolled his eyes. "Oh, Merlin…"

Hermione sent a short glare at him before continuing. "No, really. House-elves don't use wands at all!"

Harry considered this, a feeling of success dawning on him. "Yet they have strong instinctive magic. Ron, you may have just solved it!"

Far from looking happy at this (probably because he didn't want to bring house-elves anywhere), Ron changed tactics. "But what about that boat thing?! You said it only carried one person at a time!"

"Only one person Voldemort considers an equal," Harry reminded him.

"Honestly, Ronald. Do most wizards consider house-elves equal?" Hermione asked, rolling her eyes.

Ron had the grace to look a little sheepish. "Well, still… I mean, a house-elf?"

"No, Ron, it's perfect. You're doing exactly what most wizards have done and still do in overlooking other sources!" Harry said.

"But I wasn't talking about house-elves!" Ron sighed. "I just meant with wands, the magic connects the person and the object until the spell is finished, so that's how Dumbledore could have been cursed."

Hermione gazed at him affectionately. "Ron, you do have a tendency of making the most brilliant observations without realizing it."

Ron was slightly miffed by the comment but flushed all the same. "I guess that's supposed to be a compliment?"

"Of course, mate," Harry laughed, slapping Ron on the back. "Now that we've come up with a possible solution to that problem though… we need to _find_ the Horcruxes."

"Well, I think we should try tomorrow when we all will be rested. I mean, right now if there was a book that specifically said, 'Here are Voldemort's Horcruxes, you great big prat,' I would skip over it because my eyes can't focus," Ron said, laying his head on his book bag.

Harry sighed. "I've been at it for hours, and you just got here. But you're right; it's late…" _I just hope you guys aren't still busy tomorrow_, he thought to himself.

"Come on, mate; we've made tons of progress! We know how we might be able to destroy them!" Ron reasoned.

Hermione, who had been busy ticking off the things they had to do the next day, looked up. "Although we still have to do more research to solidify that as an option…"

She went on, but both boys were far too tired to listen. Harry happened to glance at Ron. There must have been some form of pleading in his eyes, because when Ron caught his look, he grinned.

"Hermione, please don't take this the wrong way, but you're going to make me pass out. We all need to sleep." Ron chuckled.

Hermione scowled at Ron and then noticed Harry's look of exhaustion. She sighed and relented. "Alright, alright. I expect to see both of you here tomorrow morning, bright and early!" she said, wagging a finger at each of them.

"Like you wouldn't wake us up if we weren't anyway," Ron noted with a smile on his face.

"True," Hermione conceded, and her hair seemed to calm down as if she were a cat relaxing from bristling its back.

* * *

Ginny Weasley was in a fairly good mood when it finally came to Saturday. She had managed to finish all her homework early and was ready to simply relax. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in the library working; she wasn't sure on what, but they did have N.E.W.T.s this year. So when it finally came to lunch that afternoon, she was left sitting by Neville… but she didn't really mind.

"Hey Neville," she greeted him as she sat down next to him.

He smiled, looking happy to have some company. "Hello Ginny."

She saw that he had been reading a Herbology book while eating and smiled. It seemed like everyone was glued to books lately. "Do you like that book?" she asked, filling up her plate.

He nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah, it has tons of information on the rarer plants of the world, and it also points out a lot of-" he stopped, looking embarrassed for a moment, before finishing off with a dull, "Yeah, it's good."

"It's okay, Neville, you won't bore me that easily." She grinned, and he flushed. "So how's your seventh year so far?"

He shrugged, looking a little unsure. "Well, it's only the first week. I've liked the Herbology lessons though."

"That's good. Do you like Professor Weasley?" Ginny asked with a smile

Fleur, now her sister-in-law, had taken the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Professor McGonagall had been hesitant to ask Fleur about it, but all of them (except perhaps Harry) had been surprised when she had responded so eagerly. Fleur was most likely spending time with Bill today, who was usually busy with the Order.

"She's okay, I guess." Neville flushed, and Ginny gave a small laugh. It wasn't surprising that suddenly a large percent of the male Hogwarts population were interested in Defense Against the Dark Arts. "Where are Harry, Ron, and Hermione?"

Of course he would ask like they would only be somewhere together… "Oh, off researching something," she answered lightly.

"They do that a lot now." Neville noted.

Ginny nodded in agreement. "Well, I know at least Harry and Ron hope to become Aurors."

"That's a difficult career path," Neville commented.

But as the conversation continued, Ginny's mind wandered off. Yes, becoming an Auror was a career choice that involved a lot of work, but somehow she suspected that wasn't what they were focusing on so often in the library. She would be willing to devote hours to reading books if she thought it would help him, no matter what the subject. Maybe she'd just have to show him that.

* * *


End file.
